


497. Machiavelli's prince

by tveckling



Series: Dare to Write challenge [42]
Category: Romeo And Juliet - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, M/M, Unhappy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-06
Updated: 2016-11-06
Packaged: 2018-08-29 10:52:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8486575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tveckling/pseuds/tveckling
Summary: There was not often a moment’s peace in between his lessons, now that Mercutio had officially been declared the heir of Verona, but for once his uncle had cleared all his lessons for the afternoon. The Prince was aware of how important Mercutio’s meeting was, being the one who pushed for Mercutio to arrange it in the first place, and he had made sure that Mercutio would not find an excuse to put it off. It was aggravating that his uncle knew his ways so well, but Mercutio could only bite his tongue and let his heart ache.





	

**Author's Note:**

> For britophile at tumblr

There was not often a moment's peace in between his lessons, now that Mercutio had officially been declared the heir of Verona, but for once his uncle had cleared all his lessons for the afternoon. The Prince was aware of how important Mercutio's meeting was, being the one who pushed for Mercutio to arrange it in the first place, and he had made sure that Mercutio would not find an excuse to put it off. It was aggravating that his uncle knew his ways so well, but Mercutio could only bite his tongue and let his heart ache.

"Now what the hell do you want? First I don't hear from you for weeks, then all of a sudden I get a royal summon to the palace?" Tybalt glared darkly from where he stood behind a chair. Even when Mercutio had asked him to sit he had refused, surely to show his displeasure.

Mercutio wasn't any better, of course, standing by one of the windows. His head was full, thoughts whirling around without making much sense, and his nerves were so high-strung he feared they would snap at any moment. It was the main focus of his concentration to keep any of it from showing.

"I have been busy, as I am sure you can understand," he said, keeping his voice level. It was hard when all he wanted to do was scream his denial at what was happening. "When my cousin died and my uncle declared me his heir there were many changes to be made, and much for me to learn. I am still just beginning to understand everything that comes with being Prince, but I'm assured I make progress."

"Isn't that nice then? Too busy to spend any time with your friends or the person you proclaimed your _love_ to on more than one occasion, but at least you're making good progress," Tybalt sneered.

The urge to answer in kind disappeared as quickly as it had came, and Mercutio felt tired. He swallowed once, then fastened his eyes on a spot behind Tybalt's left ear as he prepared to speak. His hands were held behind his back; there was no chance for Tybalt to see how hard his nails were biting into his skin.

"Yes. That is also part of the reason why I called you here today. As Prince I must be impartial, able to look on all matters brought to my attention without any prejudice or inclination towards any one side. I must be a person above it all." Tybalt mocking snort went by without comment but not without notice. "That is why I have to ask you to stop sending me letters and trying to see me or meet with me."

Tybalt blinked and shook his head. "So what, do you want to arrange specific times when we will meet? I suppose it might be easier if you are the one to initiate contact, that is true."

"No."

Tybalt had a look like he was desperately trying to think of reasons—any but the obvious one—as to why Mercutio was saying what he did. Mercutio kept breathing normally, kept his face relaxed and calm, and the ringing in his ears was temporarily quieted when nails broke skin behind his back and the physical pain overwhelmed everything else.

"I am saying that we are through. I don't want you to contact me again, and I definitely don't want you to try and see me. When I walk out through that door 'we'—our history, our meetings, whatever it was we had, whatever we were—it will be over."

Tybalt shook his head, running his hand through his hair as he took a step forward. "But- you can't be- what do you mean? Is this because of your new title? Is that it? The time has come to get serious, to grow up, so you just throw away anyone you think is useless or might impede you in some way? What about us, is it that you fear that it'll become a scandal if we are found out once you take the throne? Everyone knows what sort of person you are now and always have been, but then you will be a respectable man? You have to be joking!"

Anger was easier than- well, than anything else. Mercutio was used to anger. He could handle anger. "I am not. I, however, have responsibilities now. Duties, which I am sure you wouldn't know the weight of, since you are nothing but a Capulet pawn."

There it was, the rage in Tybalt's face, the rage that would take away the last doubts he had about their relationship. All Mercutio had to do was give one last push, it wouldn't take more than a couple of sentences. A few seconds, and then he would have Tybalt storming out of the room, determined to never again return. Determined to never again meet, never again talk or smile or kiss. Never.

"I've had a nice time, it really was. Now, I trust you can find the way out?"

Tybalt's jaw worked in silence for some seconds, then he turned, marched over to the door, and violently ripped it open. Mercutio didn't jump as it slammed shut, but it was close. At least he had managed to stay his tongue and not call out after Tybalt. At least he had done what he was supposed to do. At least he was now free, untethered, without link to any house.

His hands were shaking as he slowly brought them out in front, but he didn't feel a thing when he looked down on the mess he had made. Blood was slowly oozing from the gashes in his palms, and idly he thought that he should get them taken care of quickly, but he couldn't find it in him to actually care. Let the marks stay. The last of his emotions had just disappeared through the door, and he had been the one to chase him away.

Let the blood run.

 

\-----

 

_"No, I can't- you don't understand! He's too important to me, I can't tell him to disappear. I won't!" Mercutio clutched his arms tight, hugged himself much like he wished someone else would hug him, and shook his head wildly._

_The Prince disappeared for a moment and his uncle sighed, but the pity in his eyes made Mercutio nauseous even before any words had been said. "You don't understand. He's in the way for you as you are now, a weakness that a Prince cannot be allowed to have. There is but one choice for you to make: either you cut him loose or he dies."_


End file.
